


Whelp, Now what?

by blackwolf066



Series: The Things We Didn't Do (Season 2 Au's/Fix-its) [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Ben Hargreeves-centric, Gen, Humor, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves is a little shit, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, Klaus and Ben against the world again, No Incest, No cults, Not Season/Series 02 Compliant, One-Shot, Protective Ben Hargreeves, Season 2 Speculation, What-If, cause of Dave, i guess this can be considered an, need to get this out before Canon ruins it, speculation of what Ben and Klaus get up to when they get sent back in time, that photo promo drop had my muse going hay-wire, the terror twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:01:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24817261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackwolf066/pseuds/blackwolf066
Summary: Klaus stared blankly at the plume of smoke billowing up and out from the open hood.“In my defense, you’re anawfulteacher.”Klaus whirled around with a scowl pointed directly at a sheepishly grinning Ben, standing several paces away from him; keys jingling on the fingers of his lifted right hand.Coward.((Season 2 speculation/headcanon for what Klaus, and Ben, could have been up to in the undetermined amount of time they've been stuck in the 1960's.))
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Dave/Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves
Series: The Things We Didn't Do (Season 2 Au's/Fix-its) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870822
Comments: 16
Kudos: 264





	Whelp, Now what?

**Author's Note:**

> (((I needed to get this out of my head after seeing those promo pictures the other day. I also wanted to get this out before the season airs in July and my speculations are ruined by canon (a girl can dream while it still lasts).
> 
> For my readers who are following my other TUA story "Not an End of All, Only an End of Something", I promise i'm working on the 7th chapter as this bad boy goes live. Hopefully, it should be up sometime late tomorrow night (Saturday for me) or sometime Sunday. 
> 
> Without Farther ado, I give you this one-shot
> 
> Enjoy!)))

Klaus’ palms were sweating in the tight grip he had on Luther and Diego’s hands. The swirling blue vortex above roaring loudly like a cyclone as the wind whipped around them.

“Hang on!”

The building continued to shake and break around them and the heat in the room grew hotter and hotter as their time dangerously ticked down toward the end.

Klaus took extra care, despite his growing fatigue, to make sure Ben’s hand was still corporal and strong on his shoulder—their eyes connecting as he turned his attention behind him.

Then the theater was gone and Klaus was floating; suspended in air as the blue light swirled and pulled around him. There was too much pressure closing in on all sides and too much light too see clearly, but he _hoped_ he still had a hold on his brothers as he was pulled to whatever time Five was taking them. The compression started to hurt, like something ripping him apart, piece by piece; stealing the air from his lungs so he couldn’t even scream.

What felt like an eternity, couldn’t have been more then a few seconds.

The sensation suddenly stopped and Klaus terrifyingly found himself flying. Then he was dropping; a few tree branches breaking his fall as he landed harshly on un-even dirt terrain.

 _I could have done_ spectacularly _without that last part,_ he thought to himself with a pained groan; the world spinning in dizzying circles behind his closed eyelids as he continued to lay there and become one with the earth. “Remind me to tell Five, we are _never_ doing that again. Agreed? Okay? Okay, _good_ talk.”

“Klaus, get up; you’re fine.”

Klaus didn’t budge, save to weakly lift his hand to flip Ben the bird, and groaned again.

Good, that’s good. Ben had made it through then. That was a tick in the win column if there ever was one.

“Klaus,” Ben sighed exasperatedly.

Had he said that out loud?

“Yes, and you’re still doing it. You didn’t hit your head on the way down, did you?”

He didn’t think so. Maybe? Everything hurt, so how was he supposed to tell the difference?

Finally, as the disorientation cleared a little bit, Klaus blinked his eyes open; lifting his head—but not much else—to squint up at a hovering Ben, who looked annoyingly right as rain.

 _“How_ are you not effected by any of this?” He bemoaned. “Man, I’ve had some pretty bad trips before, but this just takes the cake.” His stomach rolled in protest at his small movements as he placed a hand on his abdomen to quell it. At Ben’s blasé expression, Klaus uttered pointlessly. “Oh, right.”

Guess being dead gave Ben a free pass.

Lucky bastard.

“Stop talking, Klaus.”

Klaus snorted, and regretted it immediately as his stomach revolted again.

He would not throw up. He would not. He was the master of his own body. His stomach was made of steel or iron or however the hell that damn expression went. He’s been through far worse than this. _He would not—_

He rolled and relieved his stomach of it’s meager contents.

Ben grimaced in sympathy beside him.

“Look at me, Klaus.”

It took a hot minute, but Klaus did as requested with a bit of struggle.

“Your pupils are fine, so probably not concussed.” Ben stated, mostly to himself. “Probably just the side-effects from the time travel.”

“I’ve time traveled and I can tell you, that did not feel like this!”

“Maybe it feels different without a briefcase.” With a sigh, Ben stood. “Come on, Klaus. The others can’t be too far away from here. You can rest once we’ve re-grouped.”

“Just…give me another minute.”

(***)

Their siblings were not close by at all.

After hours of searching—and complaining on Klaus’ part—even splitting up to cover more ground, they found nothing. The woods and surrounding field were quiet and deserted of any human life and there were no other disturbances in the area; save for the one Klaus had made when he landed.

Neither wanted to believe they were the only ones to make it. Klaus didn’t really believe they were gone either.

Sure, he could barely conjure Dave, but his siblings were different. Just as Ben was different. No number of drugs in his system had ever made Ben disappear—unless the stubborn prick left himself. If their siblings had truly perished, one of them—his money was on Five—would have shown up by now.

Deep down, Ben knew that as well, even as he argued that they may have moved on if they thought everyone was dead too.

Yes, Klaus could see it being a possibility for most of them.

Allison would have moved on immediately for Claire. Diego would go for his Cop friend and possibly mom—did robots even have souls to pass on to the afterlife? Luther was a toss-up, but would probably move on just so he could finally demand his answers from dear old Reggie. Vanya was a wild card, but Five was a given. That little gremlin wouldn’t move on until he knew for sure everyone else was gone.

Klaus was absolutely sure of that fact.

Either way, they were alone and they were lost; having no clue where or when they were dropped in time. They hoped that in finding that information, it would bring clues on how to find the others—or at least provide a good enough stepping stone to stand on.

“Who’s to say they even landed in the same time as us?” Klaus stated off-handedly.

It was highly probably, Ben had agreed. Five was always ranting and raving that Time was a fickle bitch—Klaus’ words actually—and that his equations _had_ been off the first time he jumped to the year 2019.

They took a silent moment to relish the fact they weren’t trapped in their thirteen-your-old bodies. (“Why do you care, you’re dead?” “Don’t need the reminder, Klaus.” “Hey, don’t hit me!” “Oh, I could get used to this.” “That’s it, privileges are being revoked! You’re grounded young ma—Ow! How do you turn this damn thing off!”)

Before Ben could really get a plan going; Klaus was out like a light; the exhaustion from everything finally catching up.

Ben hoped—for his brother’s sake—that the nightmares would give it a rest tonight.

(***)

Upon the morning, they were off; moving through the field and past the farm land until they stumbled upon a junk yard. The name of the place didn’t really give them any hints as to where they were; at least not until Klaus hopped the fence to take a closer look.

Thankfully, the place was empty of workers, and the guard dogs were—fortunately for them—scared of the ghosts that floated in and out of Klaus’ field of vision.

“Ah HA!” Klaus proclaimed loudly and pointed at the license plates of the cars before them. “We’re in Texas!”

“But where and when in Texas are we?”

“I don’t know, Ben!” Klaus sighed dramatically. “We’re in Texas! That’s more then what we knew minutes ago!”

(***)

A few hours later found one of the old clunkers in Klaus’ possession. The beat-up car still thankfully worked (despite the obvious need for a tune up that Klaus couldn’t provide) and he didn’t even have to hot-wire the damn thing. Hitting the jackpot with the keys sitting invitingly in the glove-compartment.

“Just do me a favor—don’t crash this one.”

“Hey!” Klaus stuck his tongue out. “You wanna drive?” he cut off the sarcastic quip he just _knew_ was on the tip of Ben’s tongue. “I do know how to drive, thank you very much! Couldn’t exactly avoid it in Vietnam now could I—but that’s beside the point.”

(***)

They were outside the city limits of Austin, which gave them the _where_. Klaus recognized the clothing trends as that of the 60’s—even if they weren’t sure the exact year, it still gave them their rough _when_.

“You need to blend in Klaus, the commission will be on our asses otherwise.”

Klaus waved a hand in acknowledgement as he eyed the busy street from the safety of the car. “We’ll have to get creative.” He waggled his eyebrows at Ben, who shook his head with a sigh as Klaus deposited three one-dollar bills into the middle console. “I can’t use the change I got from the taco stand.” His expression fell as he mourned the loss.

“You’re right,”

“Tsk, I know I’m right, I’m not _that_ stupid to put future dated money out into circulation.” He hissed good-naturedly at Ben’s huff as he continued. “Someone would notice and flag it.”

“Then the commission would notice it too.”

“Bingo!” Klaus clapped enthusiastically. Cracking his knuckles, he grinned frenziedly. “Now, sit back and watch me do what I do best.”

(***)

“You’re a dumbass.”

“How was _I supposed to know_ that lady had a damn _poodle_ in her purse!?”

(***)

“Oh! What about this one?”

“You’re supposed to be blending in, remember?”

“This is blending in! It’s fashion!” Klaus corrected as he fingered the jacket he put on to try. “Come on, admit it—I look devilishly fetching in it!”

Ben snorted, but he couldn’t hide the fond—albeit exasperated—smile that twitched at his lips.

(***)

“Dave’s alive in this time.” Klaus uttered wistfully; hand subconsciously grabbing the metal tags in a white-knuckled grip. “He could be home right at this very moment.”

“Or he could have already been deployed.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And neither do you.”

Silence.

“Maybe—”

“Klaus no—”

“—we could take the trip up to his hometown and check? Maybe—”

“Klaus—”

“—I can warn him. Maybe I can—”

“Klaus—”

“—prevent him from going to the front lines or leaving! Maybe—”

“Klaus!”

Klaus gave a full-bodied sigh; the weight of his fatigue pressing down on his shoulders and wounded heart.

“You know you can’t change anything. We can’t risk it.”

“ _Screw_ the commission!” He hissed vehemently.

“I’m not talking about the commission, Klaus.” At the sympathetic expression Ben threw at him; Klaus lost his steam and looked away. “If you stop him from going to Vietnam, then you’ll never have met him in the first place. History would change and you’ll be standing here not knowing who Dave even was. Is that what you want? To lose those memories you have of him?”

“But he would be _alive_.”

“Is that what you want?” Ben repeated as though he didn’t hear Klaus’ desperate reply.

He gripped the tags even tighter, to the point it hurt, as the stinging sensation behind his eyes began to build and burn. “No,”

“Even if you did try and stop him, with the kind of person you say Dave was; do you honestly think he wouldn’t still volunteer to help? Is he the kind of person to let someone else take his place in the front lines?”

“No,”

The tears were running freely now, the pressure behind his eyes no longer being able to contain them.

“Good people die, Klaus. People _die_. That’s just how life goes.”

“It’s not fair.”

“It never is.”

“It’s not _fair._ ”

Ben’s quiet, sad, “I know,” was lost to the sound of Klaus’ heart-shattering sobs.

(***)

“Klaus!”

He paused mid-bite of the cheeseburger in his hands as Ben suddenly materialized in front of him. “What?”

“I think someone spotted Diego.”

“What did they say?” he gestured in between a mouth full.

Ben shot him an unimpressed look but continued none-the-less. “They were talking about some guy at the bar last night.”

“Diego doesn’t drink.” Klaus waved him off. “Not with all that—my body is a temple—business.”

“They said he had a large scar on his face, Klaus. He could have been in there looking for you or the others.”

“Do we know where he is?”

“No, _but_ he did just recently move here.” Ben stated with a meaningful look. “It’s gotta be him.”

(***)

It wasn’t him.

(***)

The echoing wails from the mausoleum, mingled with the gunfire and copter blades of Vietnam. The stone beneath him wasn’t cold like he knew it should be, instead it was warm and the air was muggy and stifling.

“Klaus!”

Normally Klaus would curl even farther into himself, with his eyes screwed tightly shut and his palms pressed firmly over his ears. But this time was different. This time he recognized that voice.

“Klaus!”

His head shot up to find Dave. Only it wasn’t Dave. Not his Dave anyway. This Dave was wispy, and grey and oh so very angry—all snarling, gnashing teeth and grabbing hands like the others.

“Klaus!” the doppelganger hissed as claw like fingers reached desperately for his face.

“No!”

Klaus scrambled back with despair.

“Klaus!”

“No, no, no! NO! Not you!”

“Klaus!”

“Please! Not you!”

“Wake up, Klaus!”

“Anyone but yo—”

Klaus startled awake with the scream caught in his throat.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It was just a dream. _You’re okay_.”

He turned his head to stare at Ben in the low motel light; only Ben looked shorter.

When did he get shorter?

“Klaus, you’re floating.”

He blinked once, twice, thrice at Ben before slowly turning his head to stare down.

“Well that’s new.”

Before he could figure out how to drop the three feet back to the bed; the floaty feeling—he now realized surrounded his senses—dissipated.

He fell with the air knocked from his lungs for a second time that night.

(***)

The itch under his skin was strong, stronger than it’s ever been in the past. It was as if millions of little microscopic fire ants were crawling and biting their way up his veins. No matter how much he scratched, the itch simply wouldn’t go away.

“Tell me a story.” Ben spoke suddenly.

“W-what?” Klaus startled.

“Tell me a story.” He repeated, moving to sit down on the floor with him.

“I don’t—I—what?” Ben didn’t repeat himself again, simply waited with a patient expression. Still confused as to where this all came from; Klaus took a moment longer to processes the request before simply shrugging to himself. “What do you want to hear?”

“Anything. Just tell me something.”

So, Klaus did.

He told the tale of a boy who fell in love with a man. A man who was kind, and intelligent, and brave. A man who loved with his whole soul but fought just as fiercely. A man who had the patience of a saint when it came to the bumbling idiot that was the boy who loved him.

The itch didn’t go away, but for a moment, it was forgotten—lost in the translation of a love long gone.

(***)

“We’ve been all over this damn state! They aren’t here, Ben! I say we should start looking elsewhere. Like Nevada, or New Mexico.”

“What if we leave and one of them finally shows up?”

“What if they _don’t_?”

“What if they _do_?”

The staring match lasted for all of a minute before Klaus deflated and groaned.

“ _Fine._ If they’re in California, I’m gonna be so pissed.” He grumbled. “Where should we back-track to, oh brother of mine?”

“Back to Austin?”

“Austin it is.”

(***)

“Why can’t I just go and see him. He wouldn’t even have to know I was there. I could—”

“We’ve been over this, Klaus.” Ben sighed sadly. “It’s not worth the risk.”

“But I _miss_ him.”

 _All I see is him lying, dying on the ground._ He doesn’t say.

He doesn’t need too.

Ben knew him too well.

“I know.”

(***)

“You think I could drive this thing?”

Klaus took his eyes off the early morning road to quickly shoot his brother a raised-brow look.

“You wanna drive?”

“Why not?” he answered almost petulantly. “You’ve been getting better at keeping me corporal; I don’t see why I couldn’t try.”

Klaus tilted his head in thought as he slowed at the stop-sign. The back roads on their long venture toward Dallas, were bare this time of morning—which Klaus preferred when driving. Less likely to mistaken a living person for a dead one.

“You know what, Fuck it! Let’s go! Get out of the car.” Putting the vehicle in break, he hopped out of the driver’s seat; ignoring Ben’s surprised “now?”. With a steady breath in, he pushed his energy flow outward into making Ben visible to the rest of the living world.

 _I’m definitely getting better at this,_ he thought with some pride.

Keeping Ben solid for longer, and without the ghostly blue light tinting his aura; were becoming as natural to him as breathing did.

“Seriously, we’re doing this right now?” Ben asked, even as he excitedly moved to take Klaus’ vacated seat.

“Yes, right now! There’s barely anyone on the road, we’ll have nothing to worry about.” He plopped comfortably in the passenger seat and gestured at the road with a faux posh accent. “Onward Jeeves, Dallas isn’t going to come to us.”

Ben snorted and shoved at Klaus’ shoulder; the excited grin still fixed on his face. It quickly disappeared as he stared down at the stick-shift between them.

“How do you work this thing again?”

Klaus cackled manically.

(***)

Klaus stared blankly at the plume of smoke billowing up and out from the open hood.

“In my defense, you’re an _awful_ teacher.”

Klaus whirled around with a scowl pointed directly at a sheepishly grinning Ben, standing several paces away from him; keys jingling on the fingers of his lifted right hand.

_Coward._

Palm raised in a grabbing motion; Klaus demanded. “Keys, gimme.”

“I doubt it’s gonna work, Klaus.”

He made the grabby motion again; only Ben didn’t give him the keys.

The keys flew straight into his hand on their own accord.

“Well, that’s also new.” Klaus uttered in shock, glancing at an equally shocked Ben. “Where the hell was this when I needed it? Pick-pocketing would have been _so much easier_!”

(***)

Once the shock of his new found power subsided. They mourned the loss of their ride.

Betsy had a good run, but there was no fixing an engine that was already in desperate need of repairs.

“Guess we’re walking and hitch-hiking, now.”

(***)

The car that pulled alongside them, slowed to a leisure crawl; the person on the driver’s side leaning to roll down the window and unlock the door.

A very _familiar_ person, wearing a relieved smile on their scarred face at the sight of them.

“Looks like you two could use a ride. Nice hair by the way.”

“You too.” Klaus laughed as he opened the passenger seat and dropped in—Ben taking the back. “What _took_ you so long?”

“Hey, it’s been a minute, alright.”

“I’ll say.” Klaus snorted in agreement.

(***)

The pieces of their family were finally coming together again.


End file.
